


Fuck The Rich

by LadyBoltonToYou



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Biting, Blood, Bloodplay, Bondage, Bruises, F/M, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, Spit Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Violent Sex, spit, spitplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 13:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21446932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBoltonToYou/pseuds/LadyBoltonToYou
Summary: You’d seen him on the Murray Franklin show and felt instantly drawn to the man, so you go to the riots in support. You didn’t plan on helping him escape, but you did and brought him to your apartment. What do you expect to happen when you’re alone with a murderous man?
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/Joker, Arthur Fleck/Reader, Arthur Fleck/You, Joker/Reader, Joker/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 154





	Fuck The Rich

How did you end up here, letting him in your apartment? What were you thinking? How did letting Joker take refuge from the police in your apartment seem like a good idea? 

It all happened so fast, you were at the riots and saw him standing there like a god, blood on his face, his own mixed with the splatters of Murray Franklin. You thought fast and took him with you, sneaking through the crowd as police surrounded the street. How you managed to get him here without anyone seeing was a miracle in itself.

“Now what?” You whispered, mostly to yourself. He walked into your living room, taking in the sight of it, shaking his head. It was perfect, too perfect, you prided yourself on your organization and cleanliness.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” He asked, turning to face you. You still stood in front of the door. 

“One of them?”

He stalked towards you like a jaguar cornering its prey. “All these pretty expensive things. Your jewelry.” When he stood in front of you he grabbed your necklace and pulled you towards him. “You’re one of them.”

Sure, you had a few expensive things and lived in a nice apartment. But one of the rich? No, you went to the riots yourself for crying out loud, you shared his ideas.

“You know what I want to do to people like you?” He breathed, looking down at you. His green eyes saw straight into your soul, breaking down every wall you’d tried to put up. “To pretty rich girls who’ve never known what fear is?”

What was he going to do to you? You were scared, as you should be, you were downright terrified. But at the same time, he was looking at you with a predatory gaze that filled you with a very familiar need.

“No.” You looked up at him and tried your best to seem unwavered, but you knew he saw right through it. 

His hand shot behind your head and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back to bare your neck to him. You cried out and grabbed at his hand, stumbling backward, but he just leaned down to graze his teeth against your throat. “I’m going to show you.”

In one swift moment, he shoved you to your knees by your hair, unbuttoning his red suit pants. His zipper went down and his cock came out, hard, red and demanding attention. Oh god. Your mouth watered when you saw it and you looked up to his face. 

“Open your mouth.” His voice was so calm and he seemed so nonchalant about it all, as if he did this for a living. When you didn’t do as he told you he slapped your face, not too hard but enough to hurt. 

“Oh, fuck.” You gasped and your body swayed from the force of it before steadying. “Please, I,” 

He slapped you again and you cried out, opening your mouth for him as a sob shook through your form. You wanted it, you wanted it so fucking bad, so bad you wept. 

“Good girl.” He muttered and directed the tip of his cock to your lips, rubbing it against them before dipping it in your mouth. He fucked your mouth slowly at first, using his grip on your hair to bob your head on him.

He tasted like sweat. Your eyes teared up and you held on to his thighs, taking a moment to pull yourself together. After a while, you got more into it, using your tongue to please him and even hollowing out your cheeks and bobbing your head yourself.

He liked that. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, rocking his hips gently against your face while you pleased him. 

At one point he went too far in, touching the back of your throat, and you gagged. You pulled away from him to stop from vomiting and he groaned in displeasure. You looked amazing to him, your spit trickling down your chin, eyes wet with mascara running down your cheeks, which were still red from his hand.

“That’s enough.” He yanked you to your feet, your scalp screaming at this point. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“It’s, uh,” You fought to think clearly but he was impatient.

“No, I think I’ll just have you here.” He mused and let go of your hair, grabbing your face in both of his hands. He kissed you hard, tasting himself in your mouth while you tasted blood. 

Your mind raced but thought of nothing at the same time, your heart felt like it would break out of your chest and your pussy throbbed. You’d never felt like this in your life, so afraid but so needy. It felt carnal, almost animalistic, you loved every second of it.

When he finally parted from your lips he looked over you, taking in your outfit. A black skirt, button-up white shirt tucked in, your pink cardigan had been left at the door. You’d gotten too hot with his cock in your mouth so you shed it. “Your choice of attire for the riots, it’s unconventional, isn’t it?” His hand rested on your thigh, snaking up your skirt. “Seems a bit silly, doesn’t it?” He whispered and his fingers danced along the inside of your legs, not going up higher, not yet.

“I just got off work.” You defended yourself, looking down at his arm. You could see his red sleeve, but his hand was covered by your skirt. 

“Some cushy office job?” He hummed and moved his hand higher, to the edge of your hips where your panties started. He hooked his pointer finger in the waistline and tugged, pulling you closer to him. “Where you get to sit all day, not worrying about a damn thing.” It was like he hated you for being more privileged than others, something you had no control over. 

You didn’t know what to say so you kept quiet and listened, completely at his mercy and fine with it. 

He took off your panties slowly, a stark contrast to his earlier behavior, he drug them down to your knees and let them fall around your ankles, getting hung on your heels.

“Take your shoes off.” He stepped back to watch, taking his still hard cock in his hand and pumping it a few times.

You stepped out of your panties and kicked your heels off, waiting for more instruction.

He watched you stand there, stroking his cock and thinking. “You know what I’m going to do to you tonight, don’t you?” He said finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You nodded and he walked forward, picking up your panties, he’d need them in a moment. “If you try to stop me-”

“I won’t.” You cut him off, shaking your head. You wanted him so bad. You were so wet it was starting to drip down your inner thigh.

“Good. I didn’t want to finish that.” You imagined what he would do if you resisted, he’d probably kill you, the cops had taken his gun so he’d have to use one of your kitchen knives, maybe even choke you to death.

You were deep in thought about the ways he could kill you when he lunged forward, not liking the fact you weren’t paying attention to him anymore. He grabbed you by your neck and pushed you further into your living room until you fell back on your footstool into a sitting position. 

It was a simple thing, a soft square piece of furniture that matched your white couch. It was expensive, the whole set costing a few thousand dollars, but it came with the apartment so it wasn’t your property.

He pushed it along the floor until it came in contact with your couch so you could lay down fully without half of your body hanging off. In one quick movement, he pushed you down and climbed on top of you, knees resting on either side of your hips.

The panties were still in his hand, now ready for his intentions. He grabbed your hands and looped them around your wrists a few times, stretching them and twisting them to the point you couldn’t free yourself. You’d never be able to wear them again, which was a shame, they were one of your favorite pair.

He liked the way you looked bound, hands above your head, helpless to him and anything he wanted to do. 

“You look so pretty like this.” He grabbed your legs, lifting them from between his and spreading them with a tight grip on your thighs. Running his fingers over your cheeks, wiping away the black streaks of tears. You liked the soft feeling, even relaxing a little, and then he slapped you again, harder this time. “I know you like it rough. I can tell. The pretty quiet ones always do.” 

When he slapped you a second time you gasped, your head turning away from him and you wiggled under his form. He took advantage of your pain and shoved two fingers in your open mouth, gagging you to the point where tears trickled down your temples. He used his fingers in your mouth to turn your head so you looked up at him.

He loved it. Seeing you cry and squirm under him made his cock throb angrily, prompting him to continue his assault. He slapped you a few more times but they weren’t as satisfying since they were blunted by the side of his hand. He took his fingers from your mouth so he could hit you better.

“Please, it hurts.” You cried, pulling at your restraints. In reality, you didn’t want him to stop, not at all, you wanted him to hit and abuse you, leave bruises all over your body and make you hurt.

“That’s the point.” Finally, he stopped, but only to grab his cock and shove it inside you. 

You yelped, head falling back in surprise. If you weren’t so wet there was no way he would have entered you that smoothly. He was so fucking thick and long, he filled you and then some. He pushed in until he couldn’t anymore, then pulled out completely only to slam back into you.

“You fucking love it.” He hissed in your face, thrusting into you hard and slow, savoring each time his cock buried into you. “Say it.”

“I love it!” You cried, mouth agape as you took in each breath as a gasp. “I love it so much, it feels so good!” 

He spit into your open mouth, shocking you. No one had ever done that to you. Yet, no one had ever slapped you and tied you up with your own panties. His spit was almost completely blood, maybe ten percent of it being his own saliva. You wanted to spit it out but he closed your mouth and held his hand over your mouth, forcing you to swallow.

“That’s my good girl.” He whispered when you swallowed, taking his hand off your mouth.

You wanted to know what would happen if you made him mad. 

He slipped his fingers back in your mouth, closing his eyes and thrusting into you with that same slow yet painfully hard pace.

Perfect. 

You waited a moment and bit down on his fingers, _hard_. When his eyes snapped open your heart raced with excitement, your pussy clenching around him in anticipation. 

He saw that look in your eyes and realized you wanted to test him. “Oh, that’s how it’s going to be?” He huffed and pulled out of you, standing up so he could flip you onto your stomach. 

He slapped your ass harder than he’d slapped your face, not giving you time to react before he hit you again. Over and over, fast and vicious, using all of his strength.

Fuck, maybe you weren’t ready for that.

You shouted in pain but your cries were muffled into the couch cushion. He grabbed you by your hair and lifted your head from the couch so he could hear you scream before slapping you again. “I like the way you scream.” He grunted, switching to your other cheek to redden it like the former. 

It seemed he would never stop, at one point your skin went from raw to numb. When that happened he stopped, providing you with momentary relief, but then he laid back down on top of you and shoved his cock back inside you.

“You’re so much wetter than before.” He groaned in your ear, lifting your hips up slightly with one hand and grabbing a fistful of hair with the other, pulling your head back so sharply you thought he’d snap your neck. 

The position you were in was heavenly. Your elbows propped the upper half of your body up just enough, your shoulders and neck pulled back by your hair, with your back arched and his arm looped under your waist to hold your hips up.

He fucked himself into you, hard and fast now, each time his hips hit your ass it forced a gasp out of you. He didn’t hold back one bit. 

You’d already orgasmed so many times. First, when he entered you, a second time when he started slapping you, and now again with him pulling your hair while he fucked you. How he lasted this long you had no idea, it had been at least an hour.

He had no idea either, he was never one to last long. But each time he felt his orgasm coming he’d stop, fight it off and continue. 

Finally, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He’d been edging himself for so long it became impossible to stop and once he felt it start he let it happen.

He raised you by your hair, rising with you so you both were on your knees in the couch, your back pressed against his chest and when he let go of your hair your head laid back on his shoulder. He maneuvered just the right way so he could sit down with his feet planted on the floor, turning you in his lap. Your legs wrapped around his waist and you raised your arms, still bound at the wrists, and looped it around his head to rest your forearms on his shoulders. 

He came, fast and hard, letting out filthy moans as he emptied himself up into you. His body shuddered and twitched, riding out the best orgasm of his life, the best of it lasting five seconds but the entire thing spanning ten. 

There was so much of him. When he picked you up off of him and set you down on your footstool it poured out of you, two separate streams oozing down your inner thighs all the way to your ankles. And there was still so much inside.

You’d orgasmed four times that night. Your clit was sensitive to the touch and your insides throbbed blissfully. 

After his heart rate slowed down a bit and he got some of his strength back he turned to you, unwrapping your panties from your wrist and freeing your hands. He tossed them on the ground and sighed, slicking his hair back which was soaked with sweat.

“Where’s your shower?” He breathed as streams of sweat ran down his neck to soak into his suit, cloudy with his face paint. 

“Down the hall. Last door on the right.” You swallowed and turned onto your side, nuzzling your cheek into the cool fabric of an untouched area of your couch. “Are you going to leave?”

He stood up and took off his suit jacket, enjoying the breeze he got from being free of a layer. “No, not tonight, and not any time soon. I don’t think it would be wise. They’re looking for me.”

You nodded, watching him walk down the hall to your bathroom. “Okay.” 

You didn’t care how long he stayed, as long as he fucked you just like that many more times. 

Outside the riots were still going strong, you could barely hear them, shouts and chants, one of them being ‘fuck the rich’. 

You smiled.


End file.
